


Peter Parker's Parker Luck

by Asteria961



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: BAMF Michelle Jones, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Domestic Avengers, Field Trip, Gen, Jerk Flash Thompson, Midtown Decathlon Team - Freeform, Midtown High, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker's Field Trip to Stark Industries, Precious Ned Leeds, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Avengers, Stark Industries, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-07-21 03:44:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19995301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asteria961/pseuds/Asteria961
Summary: Peter Parker just wanted a normal resolution to his hectic and confusing year. Sure, he was a vigilante and hero of sorts. He understood what his profession entailed. He understood that normalcy was something that would very rarely make an appearance in his life, but this was taking it too far. "This" took the form of a small packet of paper that was being handed out during his seventh-period science class. Because a few weeks of calm was too much to ask, apparently.





	1. Because Why Not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you see any grammar errors or errors in general, feel free to point them out. I'm down for corrective criticism and I'm here to improve. With that aside, here you are.
> 
> Also, literally just ignore everything. I'm pretty much ignoring everything after Homecoming, so expect plot details and events to be a bit screwy.

It was the loud and incessant whirring that woke him up. The methodical hum of the lab always seemed to leave him slightly dazed. Time was something easily forgotten there, and Peter was only now realizing how that might be slightly problematic.

"Hey, kiddie." Mr. Stark turned his head from the small machine he was fiddling with to glance at Peter's groggy state. Peter shifted up from the lab desk he was slumped over at. "Pete. Maybe it's time to head upstairs." Mr. Stark lightly set his machine on the table. Peter hummed lightly but made no effort to get up.

"Kid. You look exhausted. Let's go upstairs so you can sleep in a real bed."

"Here's fine."

"Nope. Let's go." Mr. Stark tugged at Peter's hand until Peter was standing. He was then half-dragged to the elevator. He vaguely heard FRIDAY before feeling the elevator lift. He allowed himself to be guided to his room. (If he wasn't half asleep, he definitely would have fanboyed just a little bit. It was a slightly embarrassing quirk that he could never quite stop.) He didn't remember much after that, but he was pretty sure he just collapsed on his bed while his ~~dad~~ ~~idol~~ mentor watched in fond amusement. 

"Peter." He groaned. FRIDAY was always just too loud in the mornings. 

"FRI, lights at fifteen." Peter stood and stumbled around the room, running into just about everything before he was ready to head downstairs.

He heard them before he could see them.

The Avengers were nothing but organized chaos. This was brought to the front of Peter's mind when he stepped off of the elevator and got a face full of what he could only hope was oatmeal. 

"Oh shit. That wasn't meant for you." Peter was still shocked by the violent assault but managed to wipe his eyes enough to see Sam trying his best to appear apologetic as he hid snickers behind his hand. Peter grumbled, but moved towards the kitchen anyway. 

"Peter, perfect. Pancakes are over there." Steve waved towards the towering stack of pancakes next to the stove. 

He was wearing a pink apron. 

"Pete, doesn't your school start in like two minutes?" Clint was perched on the countertop and speaking through a mouthful of pancake. 

"I mean, yeah." With that, he took a few pancakes, grabbed his bag and sprinted to the elevator. 

What a time to be alive.

"Dude," Ned half-whispered as Peter rushed to sit down before the bell. He just barely made it. While Ned had gotten a little bit better at not blurting important life secrets, he had not improved at whispering. At times Peter honestly wondered if he was actually capable of using a soft voice. 

Peter thought not. 

"Hey, Ned. I was up super late last night." Ned shot him a sympathetic look but continued to berate him on his time management and tardiness. Peter stifled a yawn as he tried to listen to Ned and their teacher.

Today was going to be a long day. 

When the seventh period finally rolled around, Peter was about done. Peter had always loved physics, but he knew the class would drag just like every other class had. He supposed it was his own fault. Waiting was always painful. Especially waiting for something he loved as much as Team Dinner. Team Dinner was held every Tuesday, Friday, and Sunday. It was his luck that Friday was also Team Game Night. The names explained themselves. 

They started way before Peter was there, but they became more frequent after Peter joined and time went on. Everyone who was in the area made an effort to come, so Peter would get to see everyone again. Even the Wakandans were coming to this one. 

Of course, that was probably because of the ever-increasing Accords meetings. Whatever.

So today was already painful. He doubted the day could be any more annoying. Of course after thinking that he was proven wrong because of Parker Luck™. Just as Peter thought he was free, Ms. Warren called the attention of the class off of the clock above the board.

"I know," she replied to the muffled groans from around the classroom. "I want to go home as much as you do, but I think you'll want to hear this one." She waited for full attention before beginning to hand out a small packet. Peter hoped it wasn't some sort of worksheet. He had done enough work for today, please and thank you. "As you know, Stark Industries is very selective when it comes to guests, so I have to say that you are very lucky." Peter did not like the direction she was heading in. 

"After our decathlon's performance at nationals, along with the robotics club contest results from a few weeks ago, I believe we made an impression." The class perked up while Peter slumped in his seat.

He was cursed. That was the only explanation.

"So these packets hold all of the information and papers that you'll need to go on the field trip to Stark Industries this upcoming May." 

He felt eyes on him. 

He sunk lower.

Parker Luck was the worst.


	2. Just His Luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. I'm trying to make them longer, but wording is literally hard. It requires a brain, and I seem to have lost that somewhere. Anyway, here you are. This is mostly a filler but I'm hoping to have the next few chapters be longer and more action. Yeehaw.

Peter was four rows away and he could still feel the inquisitive looks and sideways glances from his classmates. Or maybe that was just his spidey sense. Either way, it was agitating him to no end. The trip was going to be the death of him. The form had been handed out nearly a month in advance, but he doubted the month would do anything to calm the curiosity of his peers. 

He could honestly pin high school as the worst trial he had ever had to face. Considering most of his enemies were odd, animal-inspired super freaks and super-powered villains with a taste for spider blood, he thought the statement fairly represented his hatred towards the place.

So he understandably sprinted out of the class the moment the bell rang. He almost made it to his locker when a shoulder shoved into him from behind. A shoulder belonging to none other than one Flash Thompson.

As per usual, Peter forced himself to ignore the tingling in the back of his neck and the ripples running up his spine. 

  
  


As per usual, Peter Parker “fell.” 

“Watch where you’re going, Parker. Everyone here has important places they need to be and things they need to do.” Wow. A jab at his importance. 

How hurtful. How very hurtful.

It was almost like he didn’t care.

He tried to hide his disinterest behind a mask of pain and embarrassment. Judging by the looks he was getting, he was successful. Apparently, spies could actually teach something aside from the best way to murder someone. Who knew?

Peter pushed himself up from the ground, making sure to look disoriented and strained.    
  
His lessons with Natasha and Bucky and occasionally Clint were really turning out to be useful. He, of course, rambled on about this to Happy as they drove to upstate. And if Happy listened with something other than annoyance, well, no one had to know.

  
  
  


The Avengers Compound was just as big and hectic as he left it. Then again, he shouldn’t have been expecting much to change from his last visit on Tuesday. Whatever. 

Happy pulled to the back of the Compound and let Peter out. With a quick thanks, he was off and rocketing into the main floor’s rather large kitchenette to hunt for food. He took a moment to be annoyed at his hyperactive metabolism before going to rummage through the cabinets and pantries. 

Had it not been for his spidey sense, he would have jumped to the ceiling when Pepper walked in.    
  
“Peter,” she paused to look up from her Stark tablet. “What should we order tonight? We’re taking a vote because no one here has the capability of coming to a decision like the civilized and trained professionals they are.” 

“Um… Oh! We haven’t gone to that one Italian place in forever.” Pepper jotted that down and went off to find the next person.

Peter only pulled himself out of the kitchen cabinets when he heard something make a loud thump. He and a few of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes wandered into the living room at different paces. 

As it turned out, that something was actually a someone, and that someone happened to be Clint as he fell from God knows where. He would have been more concerned if Clint didn’t make a habit of regularly falling from high places. 

“Clint, stop.” Clint met Steve’s disapproving gaze with a scowl from his hunched position on the floor. Pepper took the opportunity to tell the room’s occupants that Chinese had won over. It was almost funny how easily a room of heroes could turn into a room of whining babies. 

Almost.

  
  
  


May joined the group of heroes on the couches in front of the TV eating the last of the Chinese. Peter was almost thankful that he would be going home with her tonight. It made his day just a little more relaxing. God knew he needed it.    
  
They left for home early after May said she had an early shift. Peter finally showed her the paper he had stuffed into his bag. She signed with nothing more than a slight grin of amusement and a comment about his luck. 

He couldn’t even stop to wallow in his misery or come up with every scenario of how the trip would go south. 

He had homework. 

Fuck homework.

  
  
  


For the most part, Peter was able to shove the field trip to the furthest recesses of his mind. It wasn’t that hard. It was like every other field trip every other year. Irrelevant until the weeks right before it. 

Sure, it would come into his mind from time to time. He heard it in conversations every now and again but it was fleeting. This trip might have been big, but the teenage mind only has so much focus it can use. So, Peter was thankful to say that his worries could be put on hold, if only for a few months.

  
  
  


Okay. So he might have forgotten to do any preparation for this trip. In his defense, he had so many projects and so much homework and his home life was chaotic at best and he couldn’t really spare any time to think about something as trivial as a field trip. 

Maybe a lame excuse, but it was all he could think of at the moment. Excuse him for his internal panicking. He was sure by now that the majority of the Avengers knew about it. Honestly, all of them probably did at this point. With the number of spies, geniuses, and heroes, it was pretty hard for them to let anything slip. 

Not that he was surprised. He just hoped that they would remember in time for the field trip.

The last thing he needed was for one of them to fuck up and come down to him during the tour. 

That would make people curious. 

They were Midtown High. The brightest and the best.

They had the means, the money, the genius.

They would make the connections. 

He just hoped that he could sort everything out in time and that his clearance and knowledge and unconventional connections wouldn’t ruin him. 

Because really, all he had left was his mask. 

Take away his mask, take away his identity, it was game over.

And with his history of unorthodox field trips going wrong, he was almost sure that something would happen. If his history didn’t give it away, the knot of dread in his stomach did it for him. 

God, he really wanted a break. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally thank God for Grammarly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting earlier. No real excuse but I'm hoping this is good.

Maybe he was overexaggerating when he said that this trip would be the worst thing that would ever happen to him. He could think of a few things that would top the list before this. But still. He was convinced that the trip would be the death of him. 

He would know. He was pretty sure he could be considered psychic.

Maybe. 

Okay, the point was that he knew something was going to go wrong. Call it gut instinct or his secret psychic powers that haven’t emerged yet. So he tried his best to think of everything that could go wrong as the field trip grew closer. 

Clearance level? He was planning on having FRIDAY temporarily change his status to something more realistic for an ordinary high school intern. 

Other interns and scientists? He had a plan for that too. The tour group was just that. There would very likely be only a few instances where the group would make contact with other interns or scientists. Even then, they most likely wouldn’t be able to ask questions or have conversations. Plus, he knew these tours by heart. He was going to go along the route and tell the labs and offices to politely ignore the group. They probably would anyway, but he needed to make sure that no one came to him asking about anything that could give his curious position away,

Avengers? They almost never came down to the floors anyway. Sure, there was that one time Clint came to ask the labs for arrows, and that other time Scott came down looking for Cassie. For the most part, they tended to stick in the higher floors of the tower. He was almost positive that the small tour group wouldn’t attract anyone. Especially with him in it. That would draw attention to him, and that was the last thing the Avengers and Stark Industries wanted.

He would just politely ask Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts to avoid the tour group. They would understand.

That left any unusual occurrences.

Attacks? Covered. 

Explosions? Planned for.

Scientists or interns accidentally interrupting? A cover story was made. A backup cover story was made. A backup for the backup was also made.

Avengers? Less believable cover stories were made. Peter was sure he could pull them off. Everyone knows you can’t be a good vigilante (somewhat) running from authoritative figures and (sometimes) the law without being a convincing actor. He could do it as long as no one butted in.

Peter really didn’t want to jinx it by thinking this, but he was pretty confident that nothing would happen that he wasn’t prepared for.

So that was a lie. There were many things he didn’t plan for, and one of them came as a complete surprise literally a few days before the trip. Like, seriously? A little more time, please? 

He was completely certain at this point that whatever god happened to be in control was trying to screw him over.

He was also pretty sure that they were laughing while doing it. 

He was rambling again. 

He was in the process of mentally preparing himself for what would inevitably be his downfall. 

Dramatic? 

Maybe. 

Necessary? 

Yes.

That wasn’t the point. The point was, he forgot to account for his classmates. It would be a lie to say he was totally fine and not stressing. He was not fine and he was stressing. Peter Parker had a thing. He was the kind of person that needed control. Not the type you might be thinking, but the kind of person that was strategic and needed to account for everything and know everything and control everything. It was how he worked.

He’d talked about it before. He chalked it up to his life being completely upended more than once. His life was violent and unstable and every kind of crazy rolled into one and shoved inside his inevitably too-short lifetime. So it was safe to say he was most comfortable and calm when he could control what was going on.

Because control meant safety, and safety meant happiness. 

Not that he was complaining. In fact, he really loved his life and everyone in it. Sometimes he was even thankful for Flash. 

Sometimes.

He was a hero (vigilante) and he had a similar superfamily. His friends were everything he could want and more, and he was content now. He hated himself for sometimes feeling sad and wanting more because compared to everyone else in his life, he had it pretty easy. He really tried to suppress his anxieties and everything else wrong with him, but sometimes they overwhelmed him.

That was what led to him leaning dangerously over the side of his desk at four o’clock in the morning with crumpled paper and snapped pencils littering the areas around him. He had more time, but the only thing that would help him would be to plan for everything that could happen. Trying to plan and change things around him—controlling —was the only way for him wrangle his emotions and insecurities. He couldn’t really rationalize his feelings very well at the ungodly hour. He tried.

He was feeling nearly okay with his planning when he was jolted from his sleep-deprived trance. He glanced around with bleary eyes to find the culprit. 

He found it.

It was his alarm clock.

The same alarm clock that would wake him up for school.

Fuck.

He managed to get out of the house without Aunt May noticing him. That was a win.

He did not, however, manage to get past Ned and MJ without them trying to send him back home.

“Guys. I’m fine. Stop, I’m staying. I’m fine.” He might have been trying to convince himself more than them. Sue him. He just needed to stay so he could keep up with his accelerated courses and his homework and not fall behind. Peter—Spiderman—couldn’t fall behind. People needed him and he needed to help. He couldn’t do that if he was bogged down with two days worth of homework and makeup work. It was easy, sure, but it sometimes took some time and he just couldn’t spare any time for the stuff. Not when people needed him. Not when he needed to help.

Plus, the trip was just days away. He needed his energy and brainpower devoted to making sure the trip went smoothly. He couldn’t do that with work to make up. 

He would be fine.

This wasn’t his first time pulling an all-nighter.

He would be fine.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I'm sorry for being gone for so long. Vacation and all that jazz. Hopefully, this will be good enough until I get the next one out. We're winding down now y'all.

It was the night before the trip. Or possibly the morning of. Peter was afraid to look at his phone. He heard somewhere from someone that checking the time is not the answer to falling asleep. 

He had yet to test that theory.

He was almost certain that everything was planned for. He even had May and Pepper help him with that. At this point, he supposed nights upon nights of staying up and overthinking had forced him into a bad pattern of staying up. 

This was not what he needed. He couldn’t tell if he’d gotten any sleep by the time his alarm went off. There was like a ninety percent chance he didn’t. 

He didn’t want to dwell on that. 

Instead, he got up, got ready, and got coffee. Not caffeinated, of course. He learned his lesson the first time. The coffee was more of a stress reliever. It didn’t really do anything, but it felt like it did. 

He could convince himself that it did, and that was enough.

He was oddly not as tired as he thought he would be. That was probably due to the anxiety and random bursts of adrenaline he was getting. 

He was willing to take both at this point.

He was prepared. Enough so that May was shocked as she stumbled into Peter standing in the kitchen fully dressed and ready to go. 

“I think this is the first time you’ve actually been early. How does it feel?” Of course, May would tease him for being early. 

“I feel like a new man.” He said it in the most dramatic voice he could pull off at six in the morning. “Before you ask, I’m ready. Totally ready. I need to be there in like ten minutes but I’ll see you later. Bye May, love you!” He kissed the top of her head and ran out the door and onto the crowded streets, followed by her fond if not slightly confused gaze.

The school buses were waiting in the front lot when Peter ran up to the front sidewalk of the school. He walked to the front office where kids were crowding around. It was extremely hectic considering the fact that it was only his grade going, and they had already gone over what they would be doing in the morning. It was only a little annoying.

He checked around for Ned and MJ, who would most likely be with the rest of the decathlon team.

Great minds think alike and all that. 

In all fairness, Peter was friends with most of the people on the team. They were among the few that Peter considered friends. It was also worth noting that Peter was convinced the majority of the team knew about his—for lack of a better word—nightly activities. At least they knew something was up. Trying to hide something like that from people like them was near impossible. Midtown was known for accepting only “the brightest and the best.” The decathlon team was made up of the best of the best. 

He’d accepted it a long time ago. It was kind of like a thing where he would hint at it in conversations and they would nod along with understanding. He wouldn’t outright say it, but they got the hints. A small comfort in his otherwise stressful and hectic life.

(He was, of course, completely unaware that the team had also set up a Peter Parker Protection™ group chat under MJ’s instruction. He was also unaware that May was in it, as well as the fact that the Avengers would monitor it and join it from time to time after Pepper and May caught wind of it. Because what better source of information on Peter’s wellbeing than his school friends who saw him more than his family ever would. Thankfully, most of the team was better at acting and keeping secrets than Ned. Small blessings.

It took longer than necessary to get the busses loaded. It was embarrassing. The entire grade was going, but it was a private school. His grade was small. Seriously.

It was almost a miracle the busses started after twenty minutes of herding students. 

Peter now understood why they were required to be there so early.

With the early morning traffic considered, they made it to the tower in decent time. 

“Now remember,” Ms. Warren started combing the aisle, glancing at the students and the floor in the way that teachers always do on a school field trip spiel. “You are representing Midtown High School on this trip. You will all be expected to act your absolute best, and represent our school and our community well. Any acting out on this trip will be sent home with further consequences to be decided on. Furthermore, this is an amazing opportunity for everyone here. Remember that when you get in.” Ms. Warren checked her watch before trying her best to get the students off the bus quietly and respectfully. 

She failed, of course, but her efforts were notable.

Although Peter was sure that many students in the grade had been in the vicinity before, (courtesy of wealthy and important parents) he knew the novelty of seeing such a building—of being so close to something so monumental—never really wore off. 

“Oh wow.” The group seemed torn. Half of the grade wanted to admire the building and its atmosphere in silence. Others seemed to show appreciation more outwardly. 

“Oh my god—”

“—never seen something so—”

“—which I’m sure was important—”

And, of course, the incessant bragging and ego that seemed to pass down through wealth like a virus.

“You know I’ve been here before.”

“—know that my dad—”

“Have I told you—”

The school always did wear their heritage with a toxic sort of pride. 

He snorted. MJ almost grinned. Ned was just a little too eager for having been there the week prior.

They were pulled into groups for touring. Each class period, apparently. 

They stood on the front steps of the pride of New York.

The home of their hero.

Everything in front of them was big and bright and blinding.

Peter liked it like that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me say that I'm sorry this took so long. School started up again, so that sucks. I wanna die just a little bit.

When the heavy doors were opened by security, everyone got knocked back with a gust of cold air. The tower was air-conditioned heavily, of course. Keeping so many busybodies cool was a job in itself.

The group—herd—of children were barely recognizable as groups going through opened doors. Someone—most likely the guide—stood in front of the teens waiting for them to get over their initial awe. 

It took a few minutes of awkward glances and quiet exclamations, but eventually, the tour guide was the center of everyone’s attention. She slowly started to lead them farther into the building’s lobby. She stopped by a front desk and waited. 

“So, you must be Midtown. I’m Nikolas. I’m one of many tour guides at Stark Industries, and today I’ll be a tour guide for one of your groups. Feel free to ask questions, voice concerns, and have a good time. Now, if you’ll look behind me,” he paused to pat a plastic bin of lanyards. “You’ll see your badges. These are the clearance badges that allow visitors and other low-level personnel access to the tower. These will need to be visible at all times during this trip.” He stopped again to pick up the bin.

He started to pass the badges through the almost-line of teens. “These badges are only useful during the hours of the tour. Trying to use them after the tour is over will not work. He kept going down the line and talking about the functions and other whatnot of the badges.

It became obvious to Peter when Nikolas was nearing him. The not-so-subtle looks some people were giving him. He supposed they assumed he’d be getting a visitor’s pass along with everyone else.

Nope.

As planned, a low-clearance badge was stuffed in his pocket. He almost felt satisfied when he took out pseudo-badge and hung it around his neck.

Almost.

Instead, his satisfaction was squashed to make room for his crippling anxiety. 

As the badge settled on him, so did the curious and accusatory gazes of his classmates and teacher.

Joy.

He was able to make it through the lobby without confrontation. Probably because people were torn between him and the controlled chaos of the tower. 

(And yes, Mr. Stark, he was thankful the scanners and metal detectors had been removed in favor of Friday’s efficiency.)

The tour groups split off after the badges were handed out and the initial curiosity was quenched. A few more guides came over, although Peter admitted to not paying them much attention. He was sure he didn’t know them. As the intern and hero he was, he already knew the tower thoroughly and was rarely down in the lobby and early levels. Other than the receptionist and security, he knew nobody this far down. 

His class was led by Nikolas over to the first elevator.

“FRIDAY, level twelve if you don’t mind.”

“Certainly. Enjoy the tour.” Nikolas grinned at the apparent shock. Peter did too, though less outwardly. Even MJ seemed just slightly amused. It was barely there, but it was there nonetheless. 

Peter almost felt bad for admitting it, but he was (almost) thankful that Ned was in a separate class. God knew his excitement and poor resolve left every plan essentially up in the air.

Flash seemed to mistake Peter’s (incredibly light) smile as something born of smugness and not mirth.

He responded eloquently with a glare and a silent warning.

Peter pretended not to notice.

The group reached the first stop on their list. “The Hall of Recognition” as named by one Tony Stark was actually just a museum dedicated to the scientific achievements made in and because of Start Industries. 

(No, it wasn’t the Avengers Museum. Why would a STEM school on a STEM-related trip go there?)

The group was left to wander around for twenty minutes. Most of the floor was boring. The only things that held attention for more than five seconds were the certificates and achievements made by Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. 

The household names of New York’s favorite heroes.

Not surprising.

It was during his casual glancing around that he noticed something. 

There was a “special” section made to house the awards and certificates and mentions of people related to Stark Industries but didn’t quite fit into the other categories. People who weren’t quite interns or employees. Who weren’t close business partners or weren’t really affiliated to Stark Industries in the first place. 

People Tony Stark liked to brag about.

What caught his eye was a smaller and less bold display. A newspaper article.

MIT’s Youngest Robotics Competition Winner.  
Peter Parker, age 14, recently became a known figure to one of the greatest schools in America when he participated in and won the annual robotics competition held by MIT this fall. Nothing quite…

He stopped reading it. 

It wasn’t like he was ashamed of it, and in truth, it was part of his cover story. 

What really bothered him was the number of awards surrounding that one. He had quite a few to brag about.

He started towards it at the same time as half of the class. 

“Peter?”

“Oh man.”

“Why didn’t you say you were this smart, Parker?”

He stuttered out a response and tried to direct them to somewhere else. 

Anywhere else, really. 

Not that it worked.

Peter was smart. He knew it, his teachers knew it, his classmates knew it—the point was everyone knew it. So Peter was really confused when nobody seemed willing to let the comments about his apparent intelligence drop.

Ms. Warren and some chaperones were looking on with interest and slight awe respectively. 

Peter decided he didn’t like it. 

He tried to move to the back of the crowd as they left for the elevator.

Out of sight out of mind, right?

Maybe not, if Flash’s pursed lips and slightly curled fists were anything to go by.

The next stop just so happened to be the start of the rest of the trip. Research and development labs (R&D) were among the most chaotic places in Stark Industries. Peter also found the fewer restrictions the labs had, the more chaotic they were. 

Peter loved them.

They were also the home of most interns. Mostly the research and early stages of development were done by interns. The fun stuff was generally left for the actual scientists and engineers. 

All in all, a good working relationship for the people of SI. 

The first labs they went to were found just a few floors above the museum at level thirty-six. Being among the lowest labs, they were slightly more controlled with slightly more controlled projects and slightly less fun.

They were also worked almost entirely by interns. Their workplace reflected that. 

Unfortunately for Peter, these labs were low and controlled as such. Unless one of the higher-ups or workers came down to this level, Peter would know no one, yet again.

The group stopped just after the doorway. “This is what a typical R&D lab looks like. This is one of the lower ones, so you probably won’t see the fun stuff here. Now, if you’ll step back a bit, we wouldn’t want to distract the interns. Okay. Here are the stations. The interns and many scientists of SI do most of their work in labs like these. If you’ll look over there, you’ll an intern building a bot. Not sure what it does. Anyway, there are five more labs on this level and a few testing areas here. You can look around, but please be respectful and don’t interrupt the work being done here. That said, you have thirty minutes.” Nikolas walked away as Flash walked up.

“So, you work here.” At Peter’s surprised and confused look, Flash sighed. “I’m not stupid. I see the badge. I’m just wondering what kind of work you do. Must be really boring and insignificant if you’re working down here. I mean, come on. For months you’ve made your internship sound so important and demanding, and this is all you do. Pathetic, really. Get your act together, Parker.” Flash sent a scoff his way, along with nearly a third of the class. 

At least being dramatic was a step up from being a liar, right?


End file.
